


I'm okay

by Bloody Kae (Beastly_Raoonah)



Series: I would love a war [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26023306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beastly_Raoonah/pseuds/Bloody%20Kae
Summary: After Dan's trip to Hell, he feels left behind, since the Devil is nowhere to be seen.He tries his best to do something about it...Not knowing that neither side of the divine conflict didn't really forget about him.
Relationships: Chloe Decker & Dan Espinoza, Dan Espinoza & Lucifer Morningstar
Series: I would love a war [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587307
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	I'm okay

**Author's Note:**

> Eternal thanks to Kay_Kat who was my kind beta for this chapter.

Dan’s life was, once again, somehow normal.  
Boringly normal, considering he had sent a job application to Hell™. And anyway, no one had even bothered to return the bland corporate “Thank you Mr. Espinoza, we’ll call you,” they just straight up didn’t respond, leaving him without the usual complimentary fake promises.

During the days he worked on cases, during the nights he fell asleep on his couch in the middle of random cheesy action movies. Foggy nightmares disturbed his sleep. He never remembered any of them - each time he ended up laying on his sweaty back, eyes wide open, stomach twisting, hyperventilating, crushing two handfuls of the damp linen sheets Charlotte had bought for his apartment. He then started to frequent a 24-hour gym in order to get as close to the point of absolute exhaustion as he could, since it was the only thing that could calm him down no matter the hour. He considered it a creative approach to this problem since he didn’t know what to prepare for, but hey - being fit couldn’t hurt.  
He usually returned home before sunrise, and couldn’t help but check the seemingly empty living room each time, in a vain attempt to spot a devilish intruder.

_Nothing. I would wrap myself in it, if I could._

He had trouble with idleness during the days as well.  
Post-Hell Daniel Espinoza attended Krav Maga lessons, spent double the time on the shooting range, applied for a survival program and the assertiveness training that the precinct offered on the bulletin board. He jumped on whatever came his way to keep himself occupied.  
If Heaven and Hell had a contest in crocheting, Dan was determined to crush the competition.  
All of this he did to stop himself thinking.  
He thought he would do better at being alone, but as soon as he closed the chapter of his life where he mourned Charlotte, a myriad of anxiety-inducing dead-end thoughts poisoned his mind.

Let’s start with the fact that ever since he asked Lucifer to be involved in the divine skirmish, whatever was going on, he wasn’t part of it. The Devil hadn’t come back once, leaving him with no answers or instructions about their deal.

He hadn’t said any goodbyes, but they didn’t officially announce Lucifer’s ending as a consultant. Chloe said that he was taking some time off, and that was it.  
Nobody second-guessed it since it had happened a few times already.

And Dan was afraid.  
He was afraid that he would be excluded.  
He was afraid that he would be called by the next minute only to prove himself useless.  
He had trouble picturing Lucifer being responsible for something this big, or, well… anything in general.

_Maybe Lucifer’s all bark and no bite, because what did he even do in the last millennia, except the attempt to drink LA dry? It’s in the Bible. The Devil is a loser._

How can you even focus on your ordinary life, when it suddenly feels so mundane and pointless? The whole world is an anthill, God produced a whole bunch of kids with magnifying glasses, and Dan couldn’t keep them out of his head.

The worst thing that ate his heart was that he, Dan, could soon… _move on_. The time he spent with Charlotte was sweet, but short. He suddenly found himself tripping over attractive women everywhere he went. Most of them probably didn’t want anything from him other than a casual flirt, but he freaked out each time he caught himself repaying a smile.

He didn’t have any interest in dating, but he was mortified by the mere possibility that he may have liked to date sometime in the future. His cause wasn’t moving forward. He felt like Lucifer offered him a solution, but denied him the opportunity to make an effort, and without continuing investment in the relationship he clung to, he was scared of losing it. There was nothing he could do for Charlotte anymore, at least not on Earth, and he felt like a cheat.

His distress grew stronger day by day, week by week, then it was months. Chloe didn’t talk with him, or anyone else for that matter. She shut off any activity outside work, kept everyone at arm’s length and her greeting to him became increasingly distant, almost as if she were wary of him for some reason. He faked casual interest, and she told him over and over that she didn’t know where Lucifer was until he stopped asking.  
He tried to gather the courage to be more specific, but he dreaded that conversation. The brilliant detective had been his wife for so long, and he didn't like the odd of his secret Hell field trip remaining secret.  
Not since Palmetto anyway. Since Palmetto, Dan couldn’t keep any kind of guilt hidden under his poker face; she always sniffed it out.

What would he ask her anyway? She clearly wasn’t going to open that can of worms herself, so where was he supposed to even start?  
They hadn’t even openly addressed the fact that she knows too.

_Hey, remember how we’re friends with the actual Devil and never speak about it? You know what he’s up to? He’s not picking up the phone - Yeah, yeah, maybe he’s too busy adjusting the temperature of the boiling pits or something. Not that I care about it, ha ha. It’s not like I just exchanged my immortal soul for Charlotte and didn’t get her yet, I just thought we could grab a cold beer or two._

One night Dan couldn’t take it anymore, and, after bringing Trixie back to Chloe’s place, he found himself alone with his ex-wife in the doorway. He was ready to mercilessly shoot one of the million questions in her direction, but he noticed how under the weather she looked that day.

“Hey, Chloe… Are you okay?”

She sighed heavily, dropping her shoulders. “Yeah, Dan…”

He stroked her arm softly. “You know you can count on me, right. You and Trixie.” He withdrew his hand to place it back on his gym bag shoulder strap, just in case she’d interpreted the gesture the wrong way.

She did anyway, but her mind took a turn in a direction that he didn’t expect.

She sighed again, looking somewhere behind his shoes. “Look, about that... I’m sorry that I don’t give you Trix that often these days. I shouldn’t rob you both of each other. You have the same right to be with her as I do.” She shook her head, closing her eyes, and added a short sigh.

Before Charlotte (and Pierce) died, Trixie spent much more time with him, but seeing Chloe push away everyone except their daughter had caused him to take a step back, only picking his kid up when the little one suggested it.

“No no, it’s okay, I understand,” he responded hastily.

“It’s just… Well, I guess it’s me. For a long time, I was busy figuring out my relationship with you, with Lucifer, with Marcus…” Her first tears tapped on the tips of her slippers. Dan dropped the bag, causing it to land on the floor with a heavy thud, and hugged her tightly.

“...Dan, I planned a wedding with a _murderer_ , a stranger that I knew nothing about. And it didn’t even occur to me to ask Trixie how she felt about it. I think… I think with all this attention, I tried to make it up to her. But it’s my problem, and you can have her any time you want, okay?”

“It’s okay. Do you want me to stay for the night?” Dan offered tenderly.

“Thank you, but no, that’s the point.”

“Um, listen, Chloe, about Lucifer--”

“--You probably won’t see him, Dan, and it’s for the best,” she interrupted him, gently removing herself from the hug.  
“Thank you for caring though. And hey. Are _you_ okay, Dan?”

He stared at her and wanted to tell her, and then, he didn’t.  
He didn’t want to tell her how far down the rabbit hole he was, about the creeping morbid fascination he developed under Lucifer’s wing, and the sadist, ugly bond they had formed. He didn’t want to talk about torture, enjoyment, and all the things he made mirage-Chloe do to the man who betrayed her, how it felt and how he will never be able to live his everyday life peacefully again. Down there, he didn’t limit himself to physical torment, he got crafty. Each fight he had with Chloe when they were married, each of her little disappointments in him and yes, the big ones too, all kinds of ways she looked at Lucifer - all of that he weaponized to hurt Marcus Cain Pierce, he made it all count, relishing every second of it.  
Suddenly, there was a strange sensation on the back of his throat, like if he swallowed a ball of rubber bands, and he forced out a smile with an awkward gulp.

“Yea, I’m okay, Chlo.”

She gave him a soft, genuine, human smile in return and closed the door.  
And as Dan stared into the wood grain, he took it metaphorically and decided to never ask again, so he never has to answer.  
Fuck the gym, he headed for a bar.

\---

He took a cab to a neighborhood he hadn’t frequented recently, since he didn’t want to see any familiar faces.

_Lucifer ruined me and left me behind._

The anger grew, and the detective ordered a beer, daydreaming about the alcohol-imbued confrontation which should take place the second Lucifer appears.  
He had enough time to scheme the nuance of every possible ambush scenario by the time the bar was closing, so he picked a direction he liked, intending to march home on foot to clear his head. Everything seemed fine for a moment, then the weird aftertaste of this day showed up to bother him, sliding south, tangling his noodle legs.

_Well, fuck._   
_How far is it? Wait, where am I?_   
_Who cares._

He hadn't kept track of how much he had drunk, but apparently, it made him bold enough to face Lucifer himself and say to him…

_Say to him… Like. Face him and say… Ugh, I almost got it! What was it?_

He stopped in his tracks, losing his thread.  
An articulated request materialized in his head, it made perfect sense there, and never should have left the premises of his brain. Then something went horribly wrong, and it came out as drunken mumbling.

“Wha… Cnya exblain t’me wah does all th’s shit even mean?”

_Man, is my mouth usually so full of the tongue? It really gets in the way._

Now he tried to recall how many beers he had, but each time he tried to focus, he met a random bit of information or a straight up emptiness.  
Suddenly, he found himself in a back alley with shoddy looking characters at best, that he overlooked in the darkness.  
“Yeah, it isn’t just darkness, you moron,” his subconscious would’ve commented, if it wasn’t dragging itself ten feet behind him.

They noticed him before he had time to do the only reasonable thing he could, that being to turn around and disappear.  
He tried to focus on the ground before him, but his sight was failing him, too.

“Yo, what’s up?”

Somebody approached him, and gave him a nudge.  
“Yo, I said what’s up, ya’here for the crystal?” asked gray pants with worn motorcycle boots, adding a short muffled snort.

Dan’s brain came up with the brilliant idea of focusing on the person before him, but in this state, it was a long way for the thought to squeeze through the correct nerve endings and back.

His senses were overridden and his perception distorted, he felt like a malfunctioning robot.

Garbage rot garbage siren boots neons glass ammonia laughter puddle garbage…

The veins on his face throbbed, as one of the cold sweat pearls slid down, soaking his brow.

“Or maybe some coke, to get these guns pumpin’.” Someone laughed, nudging his bicep, which threw him slightly off balance.

“Bro, he’s shit faced, prolly riding the fucking dragon, ‘s loot him and bail,” giggled another voice, which most likely didn’t come out a mouth with a full set of teeth.  
The detective’s head spun violently. In an attempt to do something, anything, his mind took a shortcut.  
Using an automated motion, he reached for the holster on his lower back, not fully thinking it through. He clumsily pulled his shirt up in doing so, flashing his badge.  
At the same time, attempting a quicker draw than was in his current capabilities destabilized him, and his body suddenly defied the Earth’s gravity no more.  
Fuck.  
He fell backward, his vision delivering the last elegant curve of partially processed information, ending in a crash of blinding blackness.

_...garbage smudge graffiti sky moisture street lamp HURT._

“He’s a cop!” somebody shouted before a metallic flash protruded the blackness for a swift moment.  
Machined steel butterflies paint poppy blossoms on gentlemen’s shirts since the eighteenth century. But Dan didn’t see the balisong knife, so he couldn’t admire its sleek design and contemplate its poetic history.

What he saw was dancing stars as he received a dazzling hit to the forehead, and then a couple more to the stomach. He curled into the fetal position, folding his arms weakly in front of his face in a feeble attempt to protect it.  
Then he noticed a slash on his forearm as the blood slowly dripped on his face. He didn’t feel it until now. He expected more hits, but none came.  
Lying down helped his brain, but only a little bit.

And for how long?

_Hmm. Reality smells like metal now. Okay, I’ll die. Lucifer won’t come, so, why not knock on his door._

He was drowsy.

Whatever was happening surprisingly continued without his contribution - there were some thumps and squishy sounds and shrieks, but in a minute it was over.  
Someone crouched beside him, pulling his arms open, then one of his eyes.

“Whatchadoin,” he protested weakly.

“Babysitting, with a delivery service on the side.” The voice was rough and full of contempt.  
Dan didn’t bother trying to explain his home address.

“I neehto… Lusifah,”

“Then I’m your fucking fairy godmother, too.”

He was being picked up and tried to fight it.

“Oooonononono,” he moaned, now finding out about his swollen lip. Gagging, he desperately tried to hold down all of his temporarily possessed liquids.  
He saw a portion of a large, pale face, a square jaw, and unnerving blistering overgrown teeth, as the man snorted. “You know you _have_ to be carried, you fragile little meat bag?”  
“…Gonuh. B. Sick.” Dan’s head bounced off the broad back, his voice muffled, as he was drooling on the stranger’s jacket.

The huge man wasn’t even slightly bothered. “Help yourself, we have to move.”

You know, the man was clearly a dick, but all the same time, he was kind of soft and warm and overall it was a plausible place to sleep, given the circumstance, so he probably didn’t deserve to be covered in bodily fluids.

Dan swore to himself to try his best, but soon he learned it simply wasn’t enough.

He surrendered to his fate, and closing eyes he drifted off to the sound of wailing sirens and every dog in LA barking.

\---

The intoxicated detective woke up many hours later in the darkness of the penthouse. He recognized the place instantly. It had a vibe, and even if it hadn’t, there was this familiar smell…

This time he laid face down on something much softer than anybody’s back, so as his next course of action, he decided to turn his head to the side to see if his rescuer was still with him. Unsticking his cheek from the smooth surface with a click, his neck protested and his brain drunkenly bounced off the sides of his skull, as if it was mimicking his humiliating way here. It hurt like hell.

Again, a pair of legs entered his field of vision.

“Lucifer.” He recognized the suit pants immediately, and he would bolt up if he was able to. Dan managed to lift his head a little. He felt long fingers gently examining his skull, running across his spine, pinching through the muscles to check the bones, turning his upper body over, pulling him to sit up, counting his ribs.

Exhausted, he didn’t react, since it was clearly a check-up, not a sign of affection, and let himself be handled. It wasn’t unpleasant.

A tiny part of him roared in delight, welcoming the touch - finally! But he immediately stuffed the thought into the high school locker of his mind, determined to forget the combination.  
It still astonished him how little effort Lucifer had to spend to manipulate his body - he could as well be a doll.

Then the Devil finally let him go, stepping aside. “Are you trying to get yourself out of the deal by getting yourself killed?”

It was a cold, serious question.

“No,” answered the detective, feeling dumb, but offended.

_I'm not a broken toy._

He wanted to wipe the sweat off his forehead, but there was a bandage on his swollen, achy arm, so he used his other.

“Good. You must have a terrible sense of self-preservation then.” The Devil, or more likely his shadow, aimed for the elevator.

“Wait,” Dan tried, weakly.

“No. You will wait for me,”— pointed Lucifer vigorously— “why are you so desperate to get to me anyway? I have just reclaimed my phone and I have about three thousand texts from you. Ever since I dropped by, my pocket vibrates with such intensity that I’m almost happy to see you,” he barked all snarky.

Dan tried to come up with an answer that wouldn’t sound needy, silly, or humiliating, but couldn’t.

The Devil was waiting for some response though.

“Yeah, I was moaning for you like a little bitch, and you didn’t answer,” he croaked under the palm supporting his forehead.

“There are no radio towers in bloody Gehenna, but gee, thanks, Daniel, I’ll put them on the list.”

“Sorry... I guess I felt left out.” Daniel’s combative mood was gone.

“Oh, did you? _You poor thing._.. All right then! If you insist on helping, why don’t we go on a wee little trip?” Lucifer asked mockingly, walking back in a sudden surge of energy.  
“Do you have a particular relationship with your weapon?”

“Uh. I don’t know, what?” uttered the detective, trying to rub his vision back into his left eye.

“Your gun,” demanded Lucifer.

“Eh. I’m not one of those whack jobs who name it and sleep with it, but I rely on it with my life, if that’s enough,” responded Dan, waiting for an explanation, not daring to ask for it.  
It never came.

“We’ll see. Touch it,” the tall man ordered, and Dan reached for the holster on his back. Surprisingly it was still clipped on his belt, secured, and he stuck his finger through the loop that held it in place and...

This time, he was grabbed by the shirt, that he could tell the first second.  
There was pressure, a freezing vortex of cold, and his mass moved, battering along the way, like a flag fighting against its pole, flailing in the wildest of storms.

And then, before he even managed to focus on the sudden flood of light that blinded him, the slightly warmer pressure came again, and he was placed back on the couch, shivering and shocked.

The whole interdimensional expedition took place between two of his gulps and his stomach felt like he’d been served a dozen more beers with dozen more kicks on the side.

He bent forward and unceremoniously puked all over the floor.

Lucifer took a single gracious step sideways to save his shoes.

Dan felt a light breeze coming from the open window, and lacquered leather sticking to his butt, and he realized that he’s naked. And unarmed.

“Hmm. Well, that’s for God taketh away,” Lucifer judged the outcome of the adventure for himself and departed towards the waiting elevator again, as the detective instinctively moved his injured arm to cover some strategic places.

Dan felt a few subtle stabs in his groin. Strangely, the bandage was gone, but the stitches weren’t.

_This time let him leave, idiot._

He almost did.

The Devil stopped on his own and leaned against the door frame, fidgeting around the call button. He didn’t turn back to face his guest. His sleek figure, framed by the golden light, wasn’t quite like Dan remembered it. Lucifer tilted his head, bringing it closer to his left shoulder, lowering his cheek in a slight hunch. He tapped on his thigh, setting a rhythm for his thoughts.

Suddenly, Dan got goosebumps, and it wasn’t just the light breeze tickling his bare skin.  
His subconsciousness finally caught up, started screaming, ringing alarms in his reptilian brain. He turned away, fixing his gaze on the coffee table before him.

His neck hair saluted the threat, his heart rate spiked, pushing fresh blood to his extremities as fast as it could. He fought his instincts to remain seated.

“You want my attention, but you can’t lay a claim on it. Remember, what I want from you is not an equal partnership,” growled the Devil quietly, without a hint of sarcasm.  
“It will never be my intention, let alone my responsibility to share strategic information with you. You’ll often find my orders cruel, frustrating, stupid, or impossible, and you will hate me for giving them out, nevertheless, I expect you to fulfill them without delay, or fail. You offered a service to me, but I have never accepted you. And I won’t do so until I see that you understand this new dynamic. If I ask you to guard this couch for a thousand years, I better find your bones on the floor, ready to trip the enemy.”

Dan sat glued to the sofa, holding on to it for dear life.

“So, Daniel. Be a good boy, take care of yourself, I don’t believe I’m saying this, but _stay away from alcohol_ since it doesn’t do you any good. If you are to be of any use, you have to benefit my cause instead of wasting my resources.”

There was nothing familiar about Lucifer’s voice, and it was surprisingly comforting. He had never explored Lucifer’s scheming side, but it was reassuring that it existed.

“Yes, Lucifer.” Dan nodded evenly, keeping himself composed.

Suddenly, the fear-inducing aura was gone, as if Lucifer lifted the veil of terror laid on the room.

Daniel thought about if he does this willingly, or if sometimes his physical body just isn’t big enough to contain his being. Suddenly, he felt more alien than ever.

_Lucifer is a person, but sometimes, he can be a feeling._

The tall dark threat shrunk and paused for a bit. “You would throw your life away for nothing,” it added tensely and sighed.

The detective sat in silence.

“...You can still say no to all this, Daniel, and I will make it go away,” it pleaded, even softer.

But you can’t.

At least not anymore.

Dan didn’t look up, staring into the pieces of half-digested taco beneath him instead, until the elevator doors cut the golden shine off. He listened to the soothing humming of machinery, observing his surroundings in the dim light produced by the living city outside.  
When his sight adjusted to it, he swallowed the pill prepared on the conference table, washed it down with the glass of cold water, and using the blanket conveniently folded on the nearest armchair, he laid back and drifted off.

\---

Earlier that night, Lux was already closed, and Patrick had just arrived for the night shift. The bar never fully closed, somebody was always there to tend to Lucifer and his guests and to do the maintenance. The bartender was cleaning up the bar when two people came out of the first-floor elevator door. A huge, bulky man, dressed in leather, and a woman wearing a professional-looking medical shoulder bag. They exchanged a few words before departing. She headed towards the staff entrance, he aimed for the bar instead. Patrick poured him a drink without asking.

She was a private doctor, and he was the new bouncer. You would guess his profession easily since the guy was massive. Like, people-will-notice huge. Seven feet something, 400 pounds, easily.

When he was sipping his whiskey at the bar, everything was comically small in comparison; he looked like a parent attending a kid’s tea party.

Anyway, the main thing to understand about this club was, it was not just a club. It was Lucifer’s playground, his personal booze cabinet (he obviously needed a large one), and his stage. It meant much more than business, it was a place Lucifer used to shake his bright feathers and let himself be approached; it enabled people to throw everything they had his way, not just money.

Patrick, and the rest of the staff, hand-picked by Maze, were well aware and respectful of the fact that there was something very dark hiding behind Lucifer’s alluring personality. The awareness and the respect both showed on their paychecks.

The weird cryptic talk, the suspicious behavior, the power struggle in the relationship the boss had with Mazikeen, the mysterious source of his wealth, and the strings attached, well, everywhere, made Patrick certain that Lucifer was formerly involved in a criminal organization of some sort. He understood his vibe, the irresistible charm, but also the lurking danger.  
It kept the bartender far away from his bedroom, and from requesting any kind of favor.

The same thing was seeping out of every pore of the newcomer’s body.

After many years of tending the bar, Patrick could guess exactly what troubled a person just by looking into their eyes. When this pale, scary man came downstairs the first night, Patrick recognized the gaze in his - the same gaze Lucifer and Maze shared.

He poured him a drink on the house and answered his every question knowing this wasn’t one of the bosses one-night stands. This man crept straight out of the shadows of his past.  
Something was going down.

Later he was instructed to treat this person as staff, as he was supposed to be Lucifer’s bodyguard. He served as an extra bouncer and lived in the building, but for most of the day he was gone, and just today Patrick found out why, after he brought the numb detective.  
The bartender was aware of Mr. Espinoza and the role he played in Lucifer’s life. He was sad to see him being carried upstairs today. The poor man had already gotten himself tangled in trouble somewhere along the way.

He felt sorry for the guy. He was a cutie too.

Hours later, the boss finally showed up.

“Star of Morning,” greeted the pale giant.

“What did I say? Drop that bullshit here, Agarux. Patrick - give us a minute.”

The bartender nodded and didn’t waste a second, turning on his heel, leaving to do the stock inventory. Lucifer spoke directly, without a snide remark or playful undertone, and that meant to get lost as quickly as your legs can carry you.

“You wanted to speak with me, master.”

“I’m aware. Are you really having trouble dealing with a few petty human thugs, or did you purposefully disobey me, Agarux?” Lucifer poured himself a full glass of bourbon.

“My lord, I would never…”

“Oh, that explains it all!” Lucifer lashed out angrily, spilling the drink. “I was extremely specific in my requirements. I couldn’t emphasize more that he isn’t supposed to get killed.”

“He didn’t.”

Lucifer’s features tensed.

“I apologize for my failing, but I misjudged the threat. I was prepared to stand by his side, but you said he was capable. A highly ranked member of the local guard. Word gets around that he fought alongside Mazikeen on Earth! I expected nothing short of an exceptional warrior, but he was...”

“Oh for goodness sake, he was pickled like a snake in a tequila bottle.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, exasperated.

“He was not. His usual tolerance is much higher, so his later disablement caught me by surprise. I didn’t see or smell anything odd, but the human healer didn’t like his pupils and blood pressure, so she suggested testing for chemicals. We will have the results soon.”

“What you are implying is serious, since there’s hardly any coincidence in this conflict. But if somebody managed to slip something in his drink, if they had the intention of killing him, they would have succeeded.”

“Maybe the dose was poorly measured. A man of law has to have some human enemies,” offered the demon.

“So what happened is, you were bested by a mere human, and a sloppy one, might I add? You have to be kidding me,” opposed Lucifer condescendingly.

“Then it has to be a message,” suggested Agarux.

“Yes, that’s what I’m thinking. _It’s mockery_. They want to remind me that my humans are not as secure as I think they are,” grunted Lucifer through gritted teeth.

“I thought angels couldn’t kill humans.”

“Technicalities. Most of the lower host won’t, as they would have to do it directly. My elder brothers who are high in ranks though... They are happy to bend the rules.”

”In that case, the engineers are ready, so why not draft him? I never saw a man so desperate to follow you to Hell.”

“Whatever they created, he’s not ready for it, he travels as they all do. He is not able to bring it with. It’s a problem I’m yet to address.”

“We can start traditional then. I don’t want to question your decisions, but he’s too exposed, and his blindness doesn’t serve to protect him at this point.”

“No, we can deal with that—” disagreed Lucifer, growing annoyed.

“—I apologize, but the lack of purpose made him self destructive and reckless! Earth isn’t enough for him anymore. I understand that you care for this creature, and having his best interest in mind—” insisted the demon. As he leaned forward, the metal barstool he was sitting on croaked in protest.

“ _Oh, how dare you, Agarux_!” Lucifer shouted, throwing the empty glass across the room, where it collided with one of the light covers, splitting both objects into thousands of crystal clear tears that quietly jingled as they rained down onto the dance floor and the mahogany piano cover.

Agarux pulled his head down between his shoulders like a turtle.

“You are one of the oldest! How many souls have you exploited, harvesting their pain? You beckoned your servants ripping them apart because it amused you, don’t tell me this one grew on you—”

“Yes, I have seen millions, and you are stalling, because you want to preserve his innocence, but there’s nothing left! He’ll go mad, or end up dead if we leave him alone!”  
“Other humans have dealt with divinity before, and they processed it just fine. He just needs time.” The Devil dismissed him, nonchalantly waving the argument away with his hand.

The demon continued to press.“Oh really? How much time have _they_ spent in the pit?”

He half expected to be struck down the next moment. But to his surprise, “Okay,” Lucifer sighed.

“I’m telling you… Wait, really?”

“I authorize you to break the fourth seal.”

Agarux suddenly found himself in awe, gasping.

“Sire, that means, the gate…”

Lucifer filled another glass.

“Yes, it’s time. Find Maze. Fourth seal, and everything that goes with it. Now piss off. We both have work to do. And Agarux…”

He took a smaller sip, gesticulating with the drink.

“I trust you having complete control. If one of yours strays, there will be no warnings or discussions, just consequences.”

\---

In the early morning, the only thing that awaited Dan in the empty penthouse was the great grandmother of all headaches. They hugged tight like old friends, and he shrugged off the blanket, putting his feet on the ground with extra caution, but the puddle he made earlier was non-existent.

Since he was woken up by a series of short buzzes, he went to check his phone. He found it in his jacket along with his badge, the only personal things he was left with.

It was Patrick from downstairs, giving him instructions about the rules of the house. Dan showered, and he was puzzled to find some clothes that fit him. On the other hand, the lack of underwear didn’t surprise him the slightest.

He used a new bandage, since the long-sleeved shirt irritated his wound, and chose a pick-me-up from the huge mirrored bar shelf, inspecting his face in the process. Simply put, it was… swollen and colorful, in a wide spectrum.

After the drink didn’t relieve his headache, he let his sore back lead him to Lucifer’s huge bed to take a nap. There was a bit of spite in it.

_Last time he said that I can, so why not?_

The sun was already down when he finally woke up.

This time, it was the subtle ding of the elevator that woke him. He sat up.

“Lucifer?”

“...Um. Dan?”

He rushed to get up from the bed to present himself _not naked._ Sleepy, with the worst case of morning hair, beaten blue, dressed up in Lucifer’s clothes, and smelling like his body wash, he uttered,“...Chloe? What are _you_ doing here?”


End file.
